


cleavage

by poludeuces



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Drabble, M/M, male ritsuka, this is not actually about boobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23903611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poludeuces/pseuds/poludeuces
Summary: avicebron and the study of cleavage planes
Relationships: Avicebron | Caster of Black/Fujimaru Ritsuka
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	cleavage

**Author's Note:**

> small things
> 
> \- this is a drabble  
> \- references to apocrypha, lb1, and the apocrypha raids  
> \- op is a filthy geologist im sorry

_cleavage._  
noun  
noun: cleavage; plural noun: cleavages  
the splitting of rocks or crystals in a preferred plane or direction (geology).

Avicebron knew this term well.

He watched as Paracelsus explained the importance of cleavage, his fingers nimbly working on the solid, red crystals in front of him. He draws his fingers across the side of the stone, carefully touching its ridges. 

“Not all stones have cleavage, of course,” Paracelsus pauses before he puts more pressure onto the rock. Avicebron studies him as mana bursts through the rock. “But, if you know the cleavage planes of a rock, it makes preparing materials much easier.” The rock breaks with an audible crack, revealing two smooth planes. 

Avicebron has seen this concept in action.

The way the blade cuts through Emiya’s ingredients when he watches him cook. The onion slicing perfectly along its layers, or the way the cucumbers or zucchinis slice nicely along its midsection. Even his own figs crack nicely along the middle when he pulls them apart, revealing their sweet fruit.

He has had time to study his wrecked training golems. His hands travel against their torn limbs. He finds their cleavage planes, their joints and the way their bodies connect. He has their blueprints in his mind—he could create them with his eyes closed. But he takes the time to run his fingers along their destroyed bodies. Their enemies had been smart—they knew that if you struck in a certain spot, they would easily crumble. 

He has studied the way a Saber’s sword slices through an enemy. He has seen Siegfried’s sword cut through mobs, finding its hold along their necks, their shoulders, into their stomachs. He watched as Vlad's stakes impaled the droves of bodies in a perfect dance. 

Avicebron also knew the delicateness of the chest's flesh, the way the skin could easily tear. With just a little bit of pressure, humans would rip underneath. 

And he knows his own frailty. He knows the feeling of Mordred’s treachery against his throat. Chiron’s dazzling arrows have broken his mask and harmed his vision. Ivan’s grasp. The constant ache from raids, the spark of Kintoki’s axe.

No matter how much metal he adorned himself with in order to protect his vitals, there was always someone strong enough to pierce through.

Yet, the times he knows of his own weakness the most is when he is with his master.

“Steady now,” Ritsuka chuckles. His breath is so hot against his throat, his lips are smooth and sickly sweet. They always seem to know where to go to get him to unravel—the dip in his shoulder, the ridges along his collarbone, the shell of his ear.

It takes him all of his strength to keep himself standing. His fingers find their hold on his master’s hips. He’s his anchor but also the waves, pulling him away from the safety of the shore.

Avicebron sighs and tilts his head up, but that just reveals more for Ritsuka to tease—licking up his jaw and planting delicate kisses along his neck. Ritsuka’s eyelashes brush against his cheeks and Avicebron moans. 

It’s as if he knows the exact points to put pressure in order to make him come undone.

His knees buckle and his fingers grasp at Ritsuka's belt. He closes his eyes so he can focus on the way Ritsuka's fingers move down, one hand cupping his ass while the other moves between his thighs. 

His fingers need only to brush past his growing need for him to grab deep into Ritsuka’s skin while releasing. 

Ritsuka pulls back and raises an eyebrow, “A-already?”

Avicebron turns away to hide his blush. Truly, it is his master’s fault for pressing at the perfect spots. 

Ritsuka simply laughs and returns his lips to the shell of Avicebron’s ear. 

“That’s alright, we’ve only just begun.”

And his fingers and kisses return, and he finds himself breaking once more.

**Author's Note:**

> \- hope y'all are staying safe  
> \- and also you're having fun with the apocrypha event  
> \- i start work back again soon so the amount of content will probably drop to how it was like before march. maybe with work i'll finally have the brain power to update extra hot but made with love, who knows  
> \- stan avicebron  
> \- i don't write drabbles often so hopefully this worked


End file.
